


The Ultimate Question aka Steve really needs new friends

by LadyMerlin



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: But not exactly, Captain America: The Winter Soldier Spoilers, Future Feels, Gen, Steve Roger's Diary, fandom references
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-19
Updated: 2014-03-31
Packaged: 2018-01-16 08:25:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,375
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1338691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMerlin/pseuds/LadyMerlin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve probably underestimated how seriously people in the future took science fiction. How was he supposed to have known that they'd get into a fight over a television show?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a screen cap from what I understand is the first ten minutes of Captain America: The Winter Soldier. I saw the screencaps [here](http://craftastrophies.tumblr.com/post/79811499899/steves-notepad-oh-my-god-its-just-a-list-of) and have not actually seen the clip, so spoilers are probably negligible. No mentions are made to anything else from the trailers and I can't possibly spoil the comics because I haven't read them. 
> 
> The opinions in this might or might not be the author's own; I'm keeping my trap shut :P Any fandom references you recognize are not mine.

A screenshot of Steve's Diary: 

There was a terrible beat of silence before Clint stood up, wordlessly crossed the room and sat down beside Tony. Another moment passed, and Natasha gracefully dropped into the spot beside Bruce, still in pin-drop silence. It felt like a Mexican standoff, with Clint and Tony facing Bruce and Natasha from opposite sides of Tony’s sleek kitchen island, and Steve at the far end, in the awkward middle like a recalcitrant child, or a reluctant mediator. No one said anything, and the tension ratcheted up. Steve fought the urge to grind his teeth in frustration.

Pepper, Phil and Thor wandered in some ten minutes later and stood in the doorway, taking in the situation, clearly amused. Steve hated them, because it wasn’t even funny. No one had said a word since Clint had ‘sided’ with Tony. The worst part was how this wasn’t even abnormal, anymore. He knew he was from the forties, but he’d asked one simple question, for Pete’s sake, and he didn’t understand why-

Phil asked the question for him, as if reading his mind. “What are you guys debating?” That was putting it pretty generously, honestly, because it was hardly a debate. It was a stand-off, childish and silent glaring at each other and making threatening gestures. Steve _knew_ this was why heroes and villains got into so many arguments; it was because they all refused to _communicate_. Even Professor X and Magneto, who were _definitely_ older and allegedly more mature than the Avengers, tended to roll their eyes and give each other cold shoulders. It was ridiculous.

“The eternal question,” Tony started, “the question of the life, the universe and _everything,”_ he didn’t stop, _“_ the new millennium question” his voice was low and serious, and Steve could have just reached out and _strangled_ him because what. _What was he talking about?_ “It’s the question that makes the silence fall.” Clint inexplicably fist-bumped him, without breaking eye contact with Natasha.

Pepper exhaled deeply, shoulders slumping and a grin appearing on her perfectly painted lips. She sat down next to Tony, relaxed and slouchy, and kicked off her shoes, shrugging apologetically at Bruce. He made an outraged noise, but didn’t turn even a little bit green. “Sorry Bruce, I’m contractually obliged to be on this side.” Thor quietly settled down beside Steve, and Steve tried to take comfort in his calm acceptance of the stand-off.

“Outings with my brother,” he whispered, and Steve fought to keep from rolling his eyes “often resulted in such situations. I have learned to accept that while we are capable and intelligent, there are things we simply do not understand. I take comfort in the knowledge that they are on our side, and not against us, and leave it to them.” It made a lot of sense, of course, because Thor always made sense. It didn’t make Steve any less annoyed.

Phil was watching Natasha and Clint warily, as if he was holding fresh meat and they were starving dogs. It was such a Tony-esque turn of phrase that Steve _hated_ him for affecting his brain this way. He’d probably ruined Steve for normal people, and Bucky would have laughed to hear it. Natasha bared her teeth and made a sound that _might_ have been categorized as a growl, if he was less terrified of her. As it was, Steve was too intelligent to even _think_ that in her direction, because Tony was probably onto something when he said she could read minds. Clint’s truly impressive arm muscles flexed, just a little, and he’d pulled an arrow out of somewhere. They were both still looking at Phil, intently, facial expressions passive and calm.

Phil tugged at his tie, and Steve knew it was a nervous gesture. That was unnerving in itself. He moved to sit beside Steve at the head of the island but—

“NO!” Natasha and Clint both barked, simultaneously. Tony, Bruce and Pepper jumped, their bickering interrupted ( _if Rhodey was here, he’d be on my side, and JARVIS is on my side too- JARVIS doesn’t count, Tony, and how could you let him put that into your contract, Pepper? You traitor)_ , and Phil made a quiet resigned sound in the back of his throat.

“I’m sorry,” he said, turning to Natasha and moving towards Clint. “My first crush was Captain Kirk, I can’t—”

Natasha growled something uncomplimentary about men and their genitalia. Tony winced slightly and crossed his legs, because he’d obviously heard what she’d said. Steve had a sinking suspicion he knew what was going on. It was some stupid pop-culture argument and he was really going to decommission everyone, _all_ of them, for being complete and utter—

Tony stood up and made magnanimous shushing gestures, as if he was a king quieting a non-existent assembly. Pepper smacked his hip and he stuck his tongue out at her, but got to the point. “In this great nation, we decide things using the time honoured method of democracy,” he looked pointedly at Natasha, who was attempting to scratch something into the stainless steel countertop with a knife that certainly didn’t belong in the kitchen. Nobody bothered to ask futile questions, like where it had come from, and why it had dried blood on it. “As such, this board has come to the conclusion that by a majority of four-to-two, a sixty-six per-cent _landslide—_ ”

“Get to the fucking point, Stark,” Natasha growled (and there was no denying it was a growl), and Tony did.

“Blah blah blah, we’re watching Star Trek _first_ , and when we’re done with the original series and possibly the good bits of Deep Space Nine and _maaaay_ be The Next Generation, _and_ all the movies in _cluding_ the reboots, we’ll watch Star Wars. For Steve. Steve, honey,” he said, turning to Steve, so condescending Steve wanted to _slap_ him, “it’s for your own good.” He ducked the knife which flew right past his head, without a flinch. It sank into the wall behind him, and he paid it no attention.

“It’s the least we can do, it’s our duty and our _honour_ to expose this American Hero to the true _heritage_ of the United—” he ducked out of the room, cackling like a child, before Natasha could actually kill him. Bruce heaved a sigh and went back to ignoring everyone, and Natasha swore at Phil before stalking out of the room. Clint made to stroke Phil’s head, and grinned when Phil smacked his hand out of the air.

Steve really needed to find new friends, less crazy ones he could ask questions about the future. How was he supposed to have known that he’d start a minor cold war by asking which one was better; Star Trek or Star Wars?


	2. October-what?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Apparently, [Fahrlight](http://fahrlight.tumblr.com/) on tumblr caught that the first thing on the list, Steve's list of weird-shit-from-the-future, was [Oktoberfest](http://fahrlight.tumblr.com/post/80581481595/lyrangalia-craftastrophies-steves). Then, this happened. 

“So, what’s Octoberfest?” Steve asked, one morning.

“It’s Oktoberfest,” Bruce corrected, absently, as he was wont to do.

Tony stood up, slow and serious, and met Clint’s raised eyebrow with a solemn nod. He raised up one hand and said “I volunt—”

“No.” Pepper cut him off, before he could finish the word.

“But Pepper,” he started, his tone dangerously close to a whine.

“No buts, Tony. No Oktoberfest. Not for you. Never again.” She didn’t even look up from her tablet, where numbers were blinking in red and blue. She was the only one who was fully dressed, and she looked perfectly put together. Even Steve looked rumpled in comparison.

“But Pepper, who else—”

“Steve doesn’t even like alcohol,” she interjected and looked at Steve kindly, “does he?” she asked him. He shook his head.

“But how would he know? He’s never tried—”

“Sit down,” she said, pointing at the space beside her with the back end of her stylus.

Tony collapsed into it with a deep sigh, arms crossed and lips turned down. Pepper switched her stylus to her other hand and continued working on the tablet propped in her lap, but dropped her free hand on Tony’s head and stroked his hair. After a beat, he relaxed into it and smiled lazily at the ceiling, before pulling out a phone from one of his myriad pockets.

Steve would never understand them. He was just going to ask JARVIS all his questions, from now on.


End file.
